


Through Dark valleys and Green Fields

by She_Who_Only_Knows_War



Series: Lucy [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Gen, Introspection, Self Harm, probably triggering, temporary insanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 16:29:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3657261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/She_Who_Only_Knows_War/pseuds/She_Who_Only_Knows_War
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucy knows, more than most of her friends what it is to realize that everybody dies.<br/>Everybody.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Dark valleys and Green Fields

**Author's Note:**

> Urgh. I fully intended to keep the Lucy Series light. It's not going to go that way, I suppose.

It's been a year and a half since Lucy lost her mind.  
And she gets it now.  
She knew she was crazy.  
But she couldn't bear the idea of admitting it.  
So instead she bled.  
She still bleeds through words, through actions.  
But no longer through the unassuming blades of razors.  
They were never made for this, oh God- there was no God to her last year. Just a book and a choir full of faces that judged but did not know. A pew of people that were part of her but knew nothing.- She knows her folly.  
Lucy knows she never should have torn her skin. Lucy knows that people love her and hurting herself won't solve anything.  
But it was all she could do.  
She knows she could do so much better.  
But it's been a year and a half. And Lucy has come back to herself.  
She tries to let the people around her free of this and that. All the little ways they pushed razor blades into her tender, soft heart.  
It's hard. Their sins tangle in her brain like barbed wire or thorns. Painful to insert. Painful to remove.  
They've long forgotten their follies. She's still painfully picking them out of the skin of her arms and ribs.  
But they'll fester if she doesn't. They'll make it worse. And it's better to do it now while she is sane.  
Because there may come a day when she isn't. And never again will be.  
But Lucy isn't concerned about it. Not too much. Her friends are none the wiser, those people in the pews that love her but couldn't possibly understand.  
They want to. Their desire to wear the burden is tangible sometimes.  
But it is Lucy's.  
Hannah's is Hannah's and Katrina's is Katrina's.  
Lucy knows, more than most of her friends what it is to realize that everybody dies.  
Everybody.  
It's a struggle to come to terms with. A bitter pill to swallow. A relief that it's over one day.  
It leaves her in darks valleys and green fields just the same.  
And Lucy knows she is in a green field now.  
She is happy. There is a sprig of something new and green in her chest. She can see her future becoming bright again.  
But she knows that this can't last forever.  
So she does herself a favor. She reaches oh-so-gently to that little sprig. Touches it lightly and knows that it's hope.  
She takes a breath and allows her head to tilt up, lets herself smile.  
And then rips the hope out.  
She thinks she's going to plummet into the darkness. Feels it coming.  
But instead of rushing up to greet her, the darkness flows like water into the empty space once occupied.  
Lucy strokes the little sprig as it withers.  
It's the first time she has ever done this. But it won't be the last.  
She can be happy. But she won't let herself hope. It's not allowed to grow in the fertile soil of her heart.


End file.
